


Voodoo

by Vae



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Genre: Birthday, Community: comment_fic, Edinburgh, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-05
Updated: 2010-05-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 07:08:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/582652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vae/pseuds/Vae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam's not letting Tommy's birthday pass unremarked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voodoo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sorchasilver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sorchasilver/gifts).



Being back in the UK has been pretty fucking fantastic, as far as Adam's concerned. They've been on the road for-fucking-ever, and he can't remember last time he slept in the same place more than two nights in a row, but that the album and the tour's been successful enough to extend not just to Canada, but Europe - that's as good as it gets right now. London's still wonderful, but tonight they're finishing up a gig in a new city, one he's falling in love with already.

And _this_ time, the glamkilt is being worn in more traditional fashion. Even if maybe Edinburgh in October isn't the greatest time for a Hollywood boy to be going around commando under a skirt. Kilt. Not skirt. Whatever, it rocks.

Adam's own personal rocks, though, are pretty much trying to climb back inside his body as soon as they get outside the venue, and no, thanks, no way he's demonstrating tradition to any of the fans waiting outside. A smile and a signature and a carefully calculated deflecting flirt, and he looks up just in time to see a familiar blond head disappearing into the back of a cab.

"Hey, wait up!" One more autograph, and Adam's sprinting away from the laughing line of fans, kilt flapping enough to probably give them a show, but reaching the cab in time to hurl himself into the back, breathless, grinning and pressed up against Tommy. "Running away already, honey?"

Tommy does that headflip thing that makes his hair fall over his eyes, and Adam falls for him all over again. He reaches out to brush it back, thumb lingering against one shadow-darkened eyebrow. Tommy tilts his head into Adam's hand, then lifts away with a half-smile and a shrug. "I got a couple calls to make."

" _Not_ from the hotel," Adam says firmly. He leans forwards to knock on the glass (black cabs are awesome, so much space) and give the driver a different address instead. A bar he's got booked for the night, private, the whole place closed off for him and the band and the crew and everyone who's been making the tour so successful. "Here." He offers his phone over to Tommy, shrugging at the look on his face. "International dialing plan, it's easier, right?"

"I can't call my mom with you sitting right there," Tommy objects. He takes the phone anyway, but he's grinning, flicking through the contacts.

"Why not?" Adam tries to look innocent, suspecting that he's failing miserably - it's one expression he's never mastered - but trusting to the shadowed light in the cab to help him out here.

Tommy's hand rests against Adam's face for a moment, then down to his throat, and Tommy shakes his head, grinning. "You're too fucking distracting. Can I use this later?"

"Sure," Adam says, as casually as possible and trying not to give away his plans to keep Tommy thoroughly distracted later, then looks out of the window as the cab pulls to a halt. "Oh, this is the place. C'mon."

He pays the driver, probably overtips him because he hasn't worked out currency exchange properly, and gets out, tugging Tommy after him.

"The Voodoo Rooms?" Tommy reads incredulously. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Adam confirms happily, and pulls Tommy through the black doors, up the staircase, and into the overly-ornate, fantastically embellished, gold, black and leather extravagance beyond. He makes sure Tommy gets to the top of the stairs first, and nearly laughs when he hears the cheers that greet Tommy's appearance.

He gives it a couple of minutes, then follows up to press behind Tommy, one arm slipping around his waist, the other catching the hand that Tommy's reaching back for him. "Like it?"

Tommy grips on tight, shaking his head but grinning, and leans back against Adam far enough to look up into his face. "'S cool, but what..."

Adam doesn't let him get far enough to finish. He bends his head to kiss away the rest of the question, then licks his lips to catch every trace of the taste of Tommy's mouth, chapstick included. "Your party," he says simply. "Happy birthday, glitterbaby?"

For a moment, Tommy gapes, then he laughs, twisting around to hold onto Adam, full length hug, no holding back. Adam cheerfully flips the bird to whoever's wolfwhistling in the room beyond, and determines to make sure that Tommy gets the best fucking birthday he's ever had.


End file.
